Felix

The perfect dinner would be a simple one. Three courses, good wine, and sweet desserts. It would be followed by tea and a quiet conversation with close friends. This, however, is not the perfect dinner. In fact, the event I have been forced to attend is by far the worst dinner I have ever had the misfortune of attending. The room is gaudy. Gold and purple cover nearly every inch of it and not the pretty kind of lavender purple, but a dark royal purple befitting of a woman as powerful as our host.

“What course was that?” Tennen asks, and he sounds rather ill as he says it.

“Fourth, I believe.” I mutter, shooting my personal guard a frown.

He is dressed for dinner, abandoning his usual leather armor for a nicely tailored suit. Yet I know beneath the surface he is just as armed and ready to protect me if necessary. His blonde hair is slicked back, and his blue eyes are watching uneasily as a servant takes away the empty dish in front of him.

“That has to be it, right?” He asks.

“We haven’t had dessert yet.” I point out, and he groans under his breath, sinking down into his chair and muttering something about staying fit for training.

“That was lovely, Lady Gachot.” A woman across from us says. She is smart to get on our host’s good side. Which in fact, is why we are all here. A chorus of agreement breaks out. The table, which seats twelve guests, are all crooning about how lovely the blood pudding we had just been served was. I hated it.

Lady Gachot smiles from her seat at the head of the table, her dark lips stretched wide. I had thought once that it was a black lipstick she wore, until I had the misfortune of seeing her up close for the first time and realized it was a deep purple. I have never hated the color purple more than I do now. Her hair is brown but graying near the root despite her young features. I would guess her to be in her late forties, prematurely graying due to the stress of having to run this city no doubt. That seems to be my father’s issue as well. My father, Marlon Pierce is seated to the right of Lady Gachot. He is her right-hand man, the mayor of New Haven. We are seated on the other end of the table from them.

I catch my father’s eye and his narrow. He wants me to thank her, to ooh and aww over her food, over her home, and over her. I swallow hard, and my hand drops, my fingers digging into Tennen’s thigh under the table. He jumps, a hiss escaping his lips when my nails dig into his flesh.

“Witch.” He grunts, only loud enough for me to hear.

“It is quite lovely Lady Gachot.” I smile sweetly. “You’ll have to give us the recipe, I’d simply die without it.”

“I’ll have my servants send it over at once.” She smiles, but her eyes are dark and intense as she studies me. Her eyes flicker to Tennen and he stiffens. “Does your guard typically follow you to important dinners?”

“There was another attempt on my life.” My father informs and just like that, all the eyes are off me and on him. I have never been more thankful for it.

Tennen grabs my hand in his and yanks it away from his leg with a scowl. I smile at him, and he rolls his eyes at me. He started as my guard a year ago but has swiftly become my closest friend. I suppose that is to be expected when you spend nearly every hour of every day with someone. Sometimes I wonder how the fool is meant to keep me safe, but then I am reminded of his years of intense training and that he cares for me. He would give his life to protect me. He does not know it, but I would give mine for him as well.

“An attempt?” The man next to my father asks. Darion Jet. Dock master, captain, and businessman. He is something of a mob boss in New Haven. He is wealthy and dangerous. Tennen is eyeing him like he is a bear holding a spear. I can tell my friend is uncomfortable being in this room, among this many town leaders, but with the dangers we are currently facing, he cannot stand guard outside of the room per usual.

“Someone broke into the manor.” I interject, and my father glares at me. I guess I am no longer a part of this conversation.

“What happened to your ‘well trained guards’?” Darion sneers. He does not like my father, that much is clear, and my father does not care for him.

“They were drugged. It is unclear how, but I have my best investigating. Until then, we are on high alert. I suggest you all do the same.” Father lifts his wine glass and takes a long drink. He is waiting for chaos to erupt, and it does. These people don’t like being ordered around.

“Just because you are under attack doesn’t mean we will be as well.” The woman across from me scoffs.

“If anyone were to be, it would be you, Patty.” Darion snorts, arching a black brow at the woman.

“It’s Patricia you weasel.” She hisses.

You would think the two hate each other by their banter, so it would come as a shock to learn they are secret lovers. Well, they think it is secret, the entire city knows. Even Patricia’s husband who is currently eyeing both with distaste. I always wondered why the man did nothing about the affair, but from what I hear, he has many of his own.

“Care for a walk?” Tennen asks, drawing my attention from the bickering.

“Are we allowed?”

“I don’t think they would notice.” He admits, smiling.

“Lady Gachot, please excuse me, I need some air.” I call, trying to be as polite as possible.

“Off you go then.” She waves her hand dismissively and engages in hushed conversation with my father, who has completely forgotten I exist.

Tennen leads us to the garden, alert and thoughtful. I watch him move, the way his hair reflects the moonlight and how broad his shoulders are. I feel myself flush. I am not unaware of how good looking my guard is, but I am also aware that it is incredibly inappropriate for me to be having any sort of thought outside of friendship. Truthfully, our friendship should not even be happening. It could prove as a distraction for him, but since he does not seem to mind, neither do I.

“Thank god we’re out of there.” He breathes, taking in a breath of fresh air. The moon is out, barely visible through a clouded sky. It has been a while since I have seen it clearly, or the stars for that matter.

“What, you weren’t enjoying the stimulating conversation and gourmet meal? “I tease.

“My head hurts and I feel sick.” He mutters and I laugh.

We walk silently along the garden path, the cool night air nipping at our skin, and my thoughts are brought back to the earlier topic. Someone had tried to kill my father. Again. Marlon Pierce is not a kind man. He is a shrewd businessman who cares little of who or what he must destroy to make his dreams a reality, and his dream? This city, Newhaven. Named after a child who failed him simply by being born the wrong sex. A woman has no place in a man’s world, or so I have been told repeatedly. I am of no use to him, except that maybe someday he will be able to find a businessman willing to make a trade, and I would be a bargaining piece.

“Tennen?” I stop, and he turns to look at me. “Do you honestly believe I am in danger? I am not involved in my father’s schemes- “

“You’re not.” He agrees. “But your life is not worth the chance that the attacker may or may not deem you innocent. My job is to protect you no matter what. You understand that don’t you?”

“Of course. I just wonder if having you follow me around constantly is not over doing it.”

“I don’t follow you constantly.” He rolls his eyes. “You have a guard rotation.”

We stop at a fountain in the center of the garden. It is cold marble with levels that create a beautiful waterfall. I walk around it, my fingers dragging through the water. Tennen watches me from the other side, his posture relaxed, and his arms folded across his chest.

“Yes, a guard rotation I have only seen once in the past week.” I snort and he gives me a sheepish grin.

“I don’t trust anyone with you like I trust myself.” He admits. It makes sense, Tennen is the best guard we have, and it was a surprise my father assigned him to me and not himself. I thought for a while it meant that he truly does care for me, but then after multiple failed attempts to sneak out I realized it was because Tennen was really good, and I would be under my father’s thumb with him as my guard.

“And why is that?” I ask.

“I’ve had the most training.” He shrugs.

“You care the most you mean.” I sigh, pulling my hand away from the waterfall.

His eyes lock with mine through the water.

“Yes.” He nods. “I care the most.”